Unprofessional Opinion Gaiden
by Ellen Brand
Summary: Following on from where the profiles left off, this is what happened afterwards... as our boys each get a view of Cade. Now with actual plot!
1. Talk To Me

_Disclaimer- Gosho Aoyama owns them, I do not. I do own Cade, though. This short is rated PG by the Motion Picture Association of America for language. This is a sequel to "An Unprofessional Opinion," because the plot bunnies in my head do not know how to leave well enough ALONE..._

**Unprofessional Opinion Gaiden**

**Ch 1- Talk To Me**

_I'm going to make him eat that deerstalker cap of his... wait, no, I don't think he brought it back from England after the last time. Okay, I'm going to find a deerstalker cap, and then make him eat it. Or maybe I'll steal all his Holmes books and replace them with Arsene Lupin. Or dye his hair green again. Or all of the above. _It was hard to think up an appropriate way of showing Hakuba just how annoyed he was, but Kuroba Kaito was currently giving the task his full attention. It made it easier for him not to think about how close the idiot detective had come to... NOT thinking about that, damn it! And he wasn't thinking about the worried tremble in Aoko's voice, either, as she'd called him this morning to tell him what he already knew.

He kept up his mental litany as he walked, all the way to the Hakuba mansion, pausing only as he smiled and charmed his way past the housekeeper who opened the door. Although frankly, she didn't seem unwilling to let him in... and in fact looked like she'd been expecting him.

Once inside the foyer, his attention was caught by what sounded like a fairly intense argument going on upstairs. He didn't recognize the first voice, but the second was Hakuba, and he sounded definitely upset. Kaito frowned, heading for the staircase; he hadn't been sure Hakuba was capable of raising his voice. And the argument seemed to be switching randomly between Japanese and English, sometimes in mid-sentence.

"Damn it, Junior! You do not have to be Superman! Put on the sling!"

_Junior?_ Kaito blinked, even as he climbed. _Somebody's calling Hakuba "Junior," and they haven't been eviscerated yet?_ The voice was male, he noted absently, and an adult's. Not old, but mature; thirties or forties, he'd bet.

"I can't let this slow me down," Hakuba replied, irritation evident in his tone. "They're already making noises about removing me from the Task Force."

"Somebody took a shot at you, Junior, it MIGHT be a good idea!"

The sheer venom in the teenager's response made Kaito's jaw drop. "And what do you suggest I do? Step back and watch as they get away with a second murder?" His voice lowered, gaining in intensity.

"For the first time in my life, Cade, this is PERSONAL. I will not let them take him away from me."

Tracking the voices to the upstairs study, Kaito stopped dead in the doorway, trying to process the scene in front of him. Stand-offish, prickly, overly smug Hakuba Saguru... was wrapped in a tight hug by an older man Kaito didn't recognize. And even odder, he was leaning into the stranger's embrace, hugging back just as fiercely.

Kaito wasn't sure if he'd coughed or moved or what, but something alerted the two to his presence, and they pulled apart, Hakuba swinging around to give him what could only be described as a "deer-in-the-headlights" stare.

"Kuroba-kun? ...Oh HELL." Hakuba pinched the bridge of his nose, an expression Kaito was more than familiar with.

The other manlooked amused. "Friend of yours, Junior?"

Hakuba snorted. "You could say that. Cade, this is Kuroba Kaito, my classmate. Kuroba-kun, Cade Maboroshi, a... professional acquaintance."

"Translation," Cade drawled, "we got seated next to each other at a conference, traded snarky comments about the presenters, tore up a bar together, and decided to become pen pals."

Kaito pinned Hakuba with an astonished gaze. "You got in a bar fight?"

Blushing slightly, the blond folded his arms across his chest, wincing slightly at the movement. "Some of the gentlemen there took exception to my skills at billiards," Hakuba replied stiffly.

"You skunked 'em out of two weeks pay, Junior," Cade chuckled. "And sling." He held the offending item up, dangling it in Hakuba's face until the teen grabbed it and reluctantly put it on.

_Oh yeah, that's right,_ Kaito remembered, watching as the fine pain-induced lines on Hakuba's face were smoothed away. _I'm pissed off at you._

"I suppose Aoko-san called you?" the detective asked, tone determinedly nonchalant.

"To tell me that you'd been grazed by a bullet? A bullet that was aimed at YOU, not at Kid?" Kaito's tone dripped with poisonous courtesy. "Yes, she did, Hakuba-kun. Apparently you scared her pretty badly."

Hakuba drew himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, though he wouldn't look either of his companions in the eye. "I am a detective," he said calmly. "Bullets are an occupational hazard."

"Not when you're chasin' a thief whose most violent act is tye-dyin' people's underpants while they're still wearin' 'em," Cade replied dryly.

That got a blush from Hakuba and a snicker from Kaito. It HAD been one of his better tricks, if he did say so himself, not to mention it had been installed in Task Force lore under "Things We Do Not Mention In Front of the Inspector."

"He's right, though, Hakuba-kun," Kaito replied honestly, collecting himself. "Bullets are NOT an occupational hazard for the Task Force."

"No. However, for a detective who's gotten close to things that people would rather keep hidden, they're positively commonplace."

Only years of Poker Face let Kaito keep from going pale at that. "What... what did you DO?" he asked, hands fisting almost unconsciously.

"As phantoms go, those snipers are more deserving of the name than Kid ever was," Hakuba mused, not seeming to hear him. "We can't get the slightest information on them. Forensic evidence, once gathered, seems to go up in smoke. Witnesses develop amnesia... or disappear. Files are misplaced, or damaged, or outright destroyed, accidentally, of course. And I'm not the only one who's noticed. I had a very interesting conversation with Nakamori-keibu last night, as we sat in the emergency room."

Looking up, Hakuba met Kaito's eyes. "It appears that the investigation into Kuroba Toichi's death was closed quite quickly. TOO quickly, some people think... but saying so might be hazardous to your career. Or possibly your health."

Kaito's stomach felt like he'd just stepped off a roller coaster. "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?" he croaked.

"Unfortunately, yes. And if I said I wasn't terrified, I'd be lying," the blond replied. "But I cannot simply sit back and allow these people to get away with what they're doing. It goes against everything I am, just as it goes against who YOU are."

Cade, who had watched this exchange in silence, suddenly frowned. "Wait a minute. You said you two were classmates?"

Hakuba nodded. "Ekoda High."

"He the class clown?"

"Oh yes. He's a magician, not to mention a gifted engineer."

"Great grades?

"Stellar. But I have no proof."

The older man gave Hakuba a look. "How hard have you tried, Junior?"

At that, the detective seemed to deflate. "Not very. Not nearly as hard as I could... or perhaps SHOULD."

Despite only hearing two-thirds of this conversation, Kaito was pretty sure he could reconstruct the other third, and it made his blood run cold. But he pasted on his best innocent expression as he looked from one to the other.

"Did I miss something here?

Cade gave him a jaundiced look. "I doubt it. I doubt you miss much at all, Kuroba-san."

"Cade is a police profiler by training, Kuroba-kun, and a very gifted one," Hakuba replied, faint amusement on his face. "He did an excellent profile of the Kid for me... You might wish to read it, being the huge fan that you are."

"Yeah, I think I might," Kaito replied warily.

The profiler grinned. "Of course, given that I'm not even a Japanese citizen, let alone a member of the Japanese police, and I retired from police work several years ago, I really don't give a damn WHO Kid is. I don't even have much reason to see him get caught. After some of the stuff I've seen, a thief who returns what he steals is downright angelic."

... Kaito had the feeling he really, REALLY didn't want to pursue that line of questioning any further.

"So, to sum up," Cade continued, "Kid's trying to protect everybody but himself, while Junior's trying to protect Kid, and has pissed off somebody's version of the Mob doing it." He shook his head.

"Well... all I can say is that this has been one HELL of a vacation."

Owari


	2. Coffee Klatch

_Disclaimer- Gosho owns the boys, I own Cade and crippling credit card debt. I sense a slight inequity here... This short is rated PG by the Motion Picture Association of America for language, and is the second in my "Unprofessional Opinion Gaiden" series. There should be four of these, all told, if all goes well..._

**Chapter 2- Coffee Klatch**

There were many things that Edogawa Conan hated about being physically seven years old. First on the list, of course, was the vast morass of issues that basically boiled down to the fact that he was living a lie, wearing a face and a name that wasn't his own, and watching his own life fall apart because he wasn't there to live it. Right behind that, though, were the little things. Things like the fact that he couldn't reach the top cabinets in the kitchen without a stepstool, or the fact that he had a bedtime now, one that Ran strictly enforced. That he wasn't taken seriously as a person, let along as a detective, or accorded the respect that even the dumbest adult seemed to get. Things like being shut out of crime scenes, ignored by adults, or the brain-numbing tedium that was a day in second grade. But right now, what he really hated, with a burning passion, was the fact that _no one would give him coffee._

It wasn't too much to ask, was it? Just one cup, even a small one. He'd even take it laced with sugar and milk, the way grownups always adulterated it when giving it to kids. But no, people were always telling him it would "stunt his growth," which he knew damn well was a myth. They just didn't want to deal with a hyper-caffeinated seven year-old, and while he could understand that, it still irked him.

Currently, he was sitting in a chair at the Tokyo MPD headquarters, glaring impartially at the room full of officers busy with their tasks. Takagi was busy taking statements from the rest of the Shonen Tantei about the dead body they'd found, _again_, or he could have talked the man into getting him at least one mug of the stuff. He was tempted to just go over there and help himself, but the last time he'd tried that, he'd been shooed away by somebody who'd been afraid he'd scald himself.

_Someday, I am going to find Gin, and I am going to kick him so hard in the shins, he'll limp for a month,_ Conan thought, scowl lightening slightly at the pleasant images.

"Ugh! Dear God, what is this? Water and food coloring?"

The unexpected sound of English, coming from the direction of the coffee pot, no less, pulled Conan's attention from his daydreams. Looking up, he saw an unfamiliar man, dressed in t-shirt and jeans, surreptitiously pouring the contents of the coffee pot into a nearby potted plant, rinsing the carafe, and starting a fresh pot.

Conan frowned; the man looked oddly familiar, but he wasn't sure where from. Then it hit him-- he'd seen him a week or so ago, during the investigation of the theater murder. The man hadn't been a suspect or a witness, and the only reason Conan really remembered him was the fact that he'd been _watching_ everyone and everything, with the kind of scrutiny that usually marked another detective. It hadn't helped his paranoia much when he'd seen the man talking to the police, including Megure-keibu, even after the case had been solved. Now the guy was here, and the hair on the back of Conan's neck was standing up.

A few minutes passed, while Conan watched the other as unobtrusively as he knew how. The man was tall, probably around six-foot-three, and Conan estimated his weight at two hundred pounds or so. Athletic, with short hair, apparently in his mid-thirties... And oh shit, the guy was _looking_ at him! It took everything Conan had not to eep out loud, as he met a pair of dark eyes that looked fairly amused.

Looking away, the man turned to the now-finished pot of coffee, carefully pouring two Styrofoam cups full of the substance, and headed over to the small table Conan was sitting at.

"You want some of this?" the man asked, in perfect Japanese.

Conan blinked. "Can I?" he asked, for once not having to fake wide-eyed childishness.

"Sure thing." The man set one of the cups down in front of Conan, sinking into one of the other chairs as he did so. Reaching out, Conan picked up the cup carefully and took a cautious sip.

_Oh kami, that's perfect._ He hardly ever got coffee strong enough, even when he had been Kudo Shinichi. "Battery acid" had been one of his mother's more polite assessments of his preferred beverage strength, and neither Ran nor his parents would let him near the coffee maker anymore.

Looking up from his communion with his cup, Conan smiled slightly. "Thanks... this is perfect."

"You're welcome... Edogawa-san, right?"

That got a blink. Most people didn't use "san" when talking to him, given his age. "Yeah... Edogawa Conan. Who're you?"

"Name's Cade Maboroshi. You can call me Cade, I think the last time somebody used my full last name, I was on the stand."

"You're a policeman?" Conan took another sip of the coffee. It would certainly explain this stuff... as far as he knew, only police and detectives liked it strong enough to take paint off cars.

"Vegas PD, retired. I'm just in Tokyo visiting family." Cade took a drink from his own cup. "So, what brings you down here today?"

Conan sighed. If this guy had talked to Megure-keibu or any of the MPD's officers, he had to know about the Shonen Tantei's tendency to trip over corpses everywhere they went.

"My friends and I found a dead body when we went to the movies," Conan replied, shrugging. "We had to come in and make a statement."

"Yeah, I hear that happens a lot. Beika's murder rate is seriously out of proportion to the rest of the city."

Conan snorted. "Tell me about it. So why are you here?"

"Oh, I'm here with a friend. I think you've met him... Hakuba Saguru?"

That got a blink. Hakuba? Conan wasn't sure what seemed stranger-- the idea that the rather smug and strait-laced detective had friends, or that one of them was this fairly informal, relaxed American.

"Uh... Yeah, I've met him occasionally. I hadn't heard there were any Kid heists pending, though."

Dark brown eyes locked onto him, and Conan had to quickly look down at his coffee to keep from sweating. This guy was not normal.

Cade shook his head. "No, no heists yet. He's just making a police report... he caught a bullet on the last heist."

"What?" Conan looked up, startled. "Is he all right?" Dimly, he knew he didn't sound much like a kid at that point, but he couldn't really help himself.

"Oh yeah, he's fine. Just took a chunk out of his arm, and if he wears the damn sling the doctor gave him, he should heal up in no time. Of course, given how stubborn he is, that's easier said than done." Conan could hear exasperation in the man's tone, but there was fondness in it too.

"Did he get in the way when somebody was shooting at Kid?"

Another sip of coffee. "Nope. Apparently Junior's poking around something that some powerful people wish he'd leave alone."

Conan blinked. "... Wait a minute, Junior? You call Hakuba 'Junior?' Why?"

"We met at a conference, police psychology. He gave a presentation on Sherlockian deduction, and the limits of the discipline when dealing with the criminally insane. Or the just flat out batshit, like Kid."

The man grinned. "Anyway, I referred to him as 'Sherlock Holmes, Junior,' and it stuck."

"... He must hate it," Conan snickered.

"I think it's growing on him." They drank their coffee in silence for a few more moments.

"You know... whoever Junior's pissed off must have a pretty long reach, given it looks like they're pulling strings inside the police station," Cade said casually. "Been my experience that groups like that... they don't like to share territory. And Japan is a damn small country. But there haven't been any indications of turf wars or anything like that."

_What the hell?_ Conan froze, mind racing. Was this guy talking about the Black Org? Was he with the FBI? Or CIA? He was wearing a green shirt and blue jeans, so he probably wasn't one of them... unless, of course, they'd finally learned the concept of subtlety, which he kind of doubted.

"And whoever you're scared of,-- and you are scared, believe me, I've seen street paranoia often enough to know it,-- they must have a fairly long reach too, because you don't trust anybody. Except maybe that Hattori kid, right?"

_Oh, damn it, he was in Osaka too, wasn't he? That case with the lawyers... he was the one that set Hattori off on that tirade about Hakuba. I am SUCH an idiot..._

Outwardly, he simply shrugged. "So.. what? You think that our problems are connected?"

"I think it's a good shot. I also think that you two share a common goal, involving a certain thief."

Conan forced himself to look as innocent as possible. "Hakuba-niisan and I both want to catch Kid, yeah..."

That got a snort in response. "Yeah, sure. Let me ask you a question. Is there ever such thing as a justified crime?"

Blink. "What?"

"You heard me. Yes or no, is a crime ever justified?"

Conan stared at his coffee for a long moment, thinking hard. "Yes," he said finally. "Sometimes you have to break the law to do the right thing. Martin Luther King called it 'civil disobedience,' ne?"

"Fair enough. Next question. If it comes down to a choice of justice or law, which one wins?"

This time his answer came immediately. "Justice. Laws can be unjust, or twisted."

Cade's nod was almost approving. "Okay, last question. If something happened, say to Hattori, or Mouri Ran... if you lost them, and you knew you'd never be able to put the bastards who did it in jail... what would you do?"

_Oh kami-sama... he means Kid, doesn't he? This is all about Kid somehow..._ Shaking off the chill in his blood, Conan considered that for several silent moments.

"Whatever it took," he replied at last. "Whatever I had to do... as long as I could live with myself afterwards. As long as I didn't lose my soul doing it."

Reaching into a pocket, Cade pulled out a small business card, sliding it across the table to Conan.

"That's my cel number," he explained. "If you decide that two heads are better than one, give me a call. I think you two need to talk."

"I... I'll think about it," Conan answered, tucking the card away. Then he cocked his head.

"Cade-san... before you retired... what did you do?"

A half-smile. "Police profiler."

... Ah. That explained a lot.

A flash of blond hair at the hallway door drew Conan's attention, and he saw Hakuba standing there, looking decidedly pale and a bit ill, left arm cradled in a black sling. "He looks like hell," Conan commented almost unconsciously.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you flush your painkillers down the toilet," the older man replied unsympathetically. "Aspirin does not cut it when it comes to gunshot wounds."

"Tell me about it," the boy winced, one hand unconsciously going to his midsection.

Standing, Cade waved at Hakuba, who looked rather apprehensive at seeing Conan sitting there. With a quick farewell, the man headed off, leaving Conan sipping his coffee and fingering the card in his pocket.

Well, if nothing else... at least he'd gotten some coffee.

End


	3. Second Opinion

_Disclaimer-- Gosho, not me, we all know this one by now, right? Cade is mine, but you're welcome to borrow him, so long as he comes back in one piece. This short is rated PG by the Motion Picture Association of America for language. Yeah, I know, it's kinda my default rating... This is number three in the "Unprofessional Opinion Gaiden" series... one left to go!_

**Chapter 3-- Second Opinion**

He was getting entirely too familiar with Tokyo, Hattori Heiji mused, as he pushed the door open. Specifically, he was getting too familiar with the Beika district, given that he'd been able to navigate his way to Poirot, Kudo's favorite coffee shop, without much thought. And, speaking of Kudo, there he was, sitting in his favorite booth, back to the wall, staring out the window, with a perfect view of the entire shop. Paranoid? Who, him?

_Of course, as they say, 'just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you,'_ Heiji thought ruefully. Waving slightly, he got the faintest of nods in response before Kudo went back to communing with his coffee.

"You," he declared, slipping into the booth seat across from his friend, "have an addiction. It's sad. I'm telling Neechan you need an intervention."

An acid blue stare pinned him from behind fake glass. "Do it, and I swear, I will call Kazuha-- as Shinichi-- and ask if you've given her the ring you bought yet."

"I haven't bought a ring."

The small boy gave him a predator's smile. "You know that. I know that. Kazuha does not."

Heiji blanched slightly. "Okay, okay, I get your point! Geez, Kudo, get up on the wrong side of the futon this morning?" Leaning forward slightly, he let his volume drop, his expression sobering.

"This have something to do with what you called me up here about?"

"You could say that," Kudo sighed, taking another sip. "You remember that last case we had? In Osaka?"

"With the lawyers? Of course I do, Kudo, it's been what, a week?"

A nod. "A little less, but yeah. You remember the guy who got you started ranting about Hakuba Saguru?"

Heiji made a face. The blond detective had not made a favorable impression on him during the Detective Koshien, and he wasn't shy about letting people know it. "Stuck-up, cold-blooded, stiff-as--"

"Hattori!"

Cut off in mid-tirade, the Osakan flashed his friend a sheepish grin. "Sorry. Yeah, I remember him, kind of. Why?"

"I met him a couple days ago, while the Tantei and I were down at the police station."

"You found another corpse? Are you going for Guinness?"

Blue eyes met his, fairly sparkling with irritation. "WILL YOU STAY ON TRACK?"

Heiji leaned back, raising his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, Kudo. Yeesh, you're touchy. What happened?"

"He's a friend of Hakuba-san's, Hattori. And he was down there because... Hattori, Hakuba got shot."

The dark-skinned detective felt his stomach drop. He didn't LIKE the other guy, but that didn't mean he wanted to see him dead. Kudo obviously read his stricken expression, because he hurried on.

"He's alive, it's nothing serious. The bullet just took a chunk out of his upper arm. Problem is... the one who shot him wasn't aiming at Kid."

Kudo took a deep breath, then continued. "The guy we met-- Cade Maboroshi, he told me to call him Cade-- said that it looks like Hakuba's pissed off some powerful people. People with high-level connections in the police department and a major interest in not being investigated."

Detective instincts and almost a year of friendship easily filled in what Kudo wasn't saying. Heiji swore quietly. "You think it's them... don't you?"

"Cade does."

"Wait, he KNOWS?"

A shake of the head. "No, not most of it. Just that I'm scared of somebody with a long reach. And groups like that tend to be territorial. If there were two crime syndicates operating in Tokyo..."

"It'd be a turf war. We'd have dead trenchcoats all over the place," Heiji muttered, images of carnage flashing in his mind. "Okay, so he knows you're scared of somebody, and he thinks they're the same people who the Ice Detective has pissed off. He might have a very good point. Where do I come into this?"

Reaching into one pocket, Kudo pulled out a small business card. "He thinks Hakuba-san and I should talk. I'm considering it, but... I want your opinion."

"Mine?"

"Yes. Hattori... we both know I'm not rational on this subject. On the one hand, just the idea of telling somebody who might blow my cover... I have nightmares about that. But... no offense... you're in OSAKA. That's three hours away. And yeah, Agasa knows, but he doesn't really understand, and... I just..."

"Telling somebody else would take a little more of the pressure off. I know." Reaching across the table, he squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I'm not insulted. I know I can't be here for you all the time. Admittedly, I'm not sure Hakuba is a great choice for support, but if he's gotten involved with them... well, you're in the same boat. And I don't think he'd spill. He's got the sensitivity of a rock, but he's not stupid or careless."

Kudo gave him a weak smile. "Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking, but there's more to it. Cade told me to give him a call if I decided to talk. He'd be setting this up... I get the feeling Hakuba's almost as gun-shy as we are, though about something else. I want your opinion of Cade. He's supposed to meet us here in..." Kudo checked his watch. "Twenty minutes."

Green eyes narrowed, and Heiji nodded. "Sure thing, Kudo."

"Thanks. And while he's here, Hattori? It's CONAN. Co-nan. Say it with me."

Heiji's reply was non-verbal, but it had the desired effect-- Kudo burst out laughing.

The rest of their wait passed fairly quickly, as they sipped coffee and talked about inconsequential things. Heiji moved to sit on the other side of the booth, ostensibly to get a better look at their visitor when he arrived. The fact that it put him between Kudo and any form of attack from the aisle was hadn't occurred to him, really. Though from the disgusted expression on his face, Kudo didn't believe that.

Almost twenty minutes later, exactly, Heiji saw the door swing open and felt Kudo tense slightly beside him. "That him?" Heiji asked, voice low. Kudo nodded sharply in answer.

Resting his chin on his hands, Heiji sized up the newcomer. Six-three, two-hundred pounds or so, with a build that spoke of regular exercise and a smoothness to his walk that belied a fighter. First conclusion-- this guy was dangerous. The question was, was he dangerous to them?

Seeing them, the man-- Cade, Heiji reminded himself-- crossed the crowded coffee shop, slipping into the vacant bench on the other side of the table. "Bring a friend?" he asked mildly.

Kudo nodded, little kid act in full force. "Yep! This is Heiji-niichan! Though I think you've met."

"Cut out the kid act," Cade snorted, in American-accented English. "You're gonna give me cavities."

Then, switching back to Japanese, he turned his attention towards Heiji. "Yeah, we've met, but I don't think we were formerly introduced. Cade Maboroshi... you can call me Cade. Only people who call me by my last name are lawyers and the occasional slimy business tycoon."

Heiji had a feeling there was an interesting story behind that one, but he was just going to let it go for now. Instead, he just inclined his head, acknowledging the introduction.

"Hattori Heiji, but like you said, we've met."

"So," Cade said casually, looking around the restaurant. "How's the coffee here?"

With a shrug, Kudo pushed his mug towards the older man. "Try it."

Picking the mug up, the American took a sip, and to Heiji's surprise, didn't even wince at the bitter liquid inside.

"Not bad," the man decided. "A little weak, but not bad."

"They call it the 'Detective Special,'" Kudo told him, taking the mug back.

"That's what I'll have, then." Flagging down the waitress, Cade ordered a cup of matching sludge, black, two sugars.

Heiji shook his head. "I can't believe there's somebody else who'll drink that paint stripper you like," he muttered.

That got snorts from both his tablemates. "He just doesn't know quality coffee when he sees it," Kudo shook his head in mock sadness.

"Hey, the coffee should not bite back, that's all I'm sayin'."

Brushing that off, Kudo cocked his head, staring at the man across the table. "So... how's Hakuba-san? I thought you weren't leaving him alone right now?"

"I'm not. He's doin' fine, but if I turn my back on him, he'll have the damn sling off in a heartbeat. Doesn't like admitting he ain't a hundred percent. So I sicced one of his classmates on him. The guy sticks closer than a leech with separation anxiety, so I don't think Junior's going to be getting any chances to get that thing off him soon."

Heiji blinked, then grinned. "Waitaminute... Junior?"

"It's a long story, and if you call him that, he'll shoot us both. Somehow. Not getting into it." The American watched them both for a moment, dark eyes amused. "So... I'm guessin' you're here to offer a second opinion?"

Heiji nodded. "Yeah. You mind telling me what's going on? Not that I don't trust the chibi's account, but..."

"But you want to hear it from me. Even a detective with an eidetic memory sometimes filters little things like word choices."

Heiji listened intently as the man talked, conscious of Kudo's tension at his side. Cade knew he was being evaluated, which made things tougher, but not impossible. Obviously the guy was smart-- damn smart. He'd figured out that Kudo was a lot smarter and older than he looked, mentally at least, but he didn't call attention to it. He was decidedly casual, but there wasn't any of the condescension people generally used when talking to kids. Even genius kids.

More interesting to Heiji were the calluses he could see on those hands and the careful precision of the guy's movements as he talked. No doubt about it, the guy was a fighter-- some type of boxing, if Heiji guessed right, though the calluses weren't right for traditional style. It wasn't just the physical cues that told him that, though. Cade's speech was casual, almost a drawl, which contrasted oddly with the hints of New York City he'd heard when the man had switched to English earlier. The carefully laid-back speech put Heiji in mind of a leopard, perched on a tree branch, all loose relaxation until dinner walked by below it. He had a feeling Cade's pounce, when it came, would be just as lethal as the leopard's.

But most important was the fact that... the guy wasn't asking them to trust him. Or he was, but not with their secrets. It was obvious he was worried about Hakuba more than anything, though he seemed kinda concerned about Kudo, too. He definitely had an idea how bad this trouble could get, but he wasn't asking to be let in on things. Just to be trusted enough to set up a meeting. That wasn't ironclad, but Heiji thought it was a pretty good sign that the guy was on the up and up.

And the pure and simple fact was that things weren't working. They were both getting run-down, they weren't any closer to the Organization, and now those bastards in black were taking pot-shots at another detective, even if it wasn't one Heiji was particularly fond of. Paranoia had possibly kept them alive this far, but it wasn't getting them any farther. Maybe it was time to trust somebody.

Cade's explanation wound to a close, and Heiji took a deep breath, once more feeling Kudo stiffen slightly next to him. Ruffling his friend's hair, (and getting one of those Patented Death Glares in the process,) he grinned.

"Okay... I say we go for it. K- Conan?"

"Just leave my hair alone," the chibi grumbled, but he nodded. "What's the plan?"

Cade gave them both a grin that suddenly reminded Heiji entirely too much of the Kaitou Kid. "Well... either of you gentlemen play poker?"

Owari


	4. Cards On the Table

_Disclaimer- Gosho, not me, we all know how this goes, right? Cade is mine, of course... This short is rated G by the Motion Picture Association of America. It is the fourth and last in the "Unprofessional Opinion Gaiden" series and is Cade's LAST foray into DC! Really! I mean it! ... Somehow, the grins coming from my plot bunnies fail to reassure me on that note..._

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**Chapter Four-- Cards On the Table**

Hakuba Saguru had been sleeping a fair amount lately. He usually did, when injured-- it was the best way of dealing with the pain. Especially since he knew better than to start on any painkillers more powerful than aspirin.

_Well, I suppose ibuprofen's all right, too,_ he thought wryly, reaching for the pill bottle and glass of water that sat on his bedside table. _No one's pegged that one as habit-forming yet..._

Levering himself to his feet, he straightened his clothing as best he could, then shrugged gingerly into his sling. He was tempted to simply leave it off, but since at least one of his mother hens was always in residence these days, he knew better than to risk it.

Still, he DID feel better for the nap, and he was in an almost cheerful mood as he descended the staircase. And as had been par for the course recently, said mood dissolved immediately as he entered his study.

He was used to finding Cade in there, reading psychology texts and occasionally making notes. He was getting used to finding Kuroba there, either reading some book on magic or quietly working on yet another of his vast array of magic tricks. He was even becoming used to finding them both in there, talking quietly in a way that generally made the hair on his neck stand on end.

What he was NOT used to was seeing Cade and Kuroba seated at the round table, playing cards with Edogawa Conan, elementary school detective. A quick scan of the study proved that yes, Hattori Heiji was there as well, planted on one of the sofas and watching the game in earnest. Unsurprisingly, all four looked up as he stopped in the doorway.

"Hakuba-kun!" Kuroba waved, flashing that manic grin. "Just the guy we were waiting for! Come on in!"

Against his better judgment, Saguru did so, keeping a reasonable distance from the table. "What exactly is going on here?" he asked warily.

"It's called findin' common ground, Junior," Cade replied, shuffling. "You want dealt in?"

A blond brow arched. "Has Kuroba been strip-searched?"

"Ew, no!" Edogawa made a disgusted face.

"Then I'll pass." Gingerly, he settled himself in one of the study's armchairs.

Cade chuckled. "Hattori?"

"Do I look stupid to you?"

"Fair enough." Another shuffle. "Just to reiterate, the name of the game is Texas Hold 'Em, the small blind is two, big blind is four, and if I catch you cheating, the results will be dire."

Kuroba blinked. "Cheating?" he asked, all innocence.

"Us?" Edogawa added, his expression a perfect echo of the larger boy's.

Saguru looked from one to the other, feeling slightly ill. Funny how he'd never noticed the physical resemblance before... The two could be brothers.

"I've been watching 'em for three hands," Hattori said quietly, scooting closer to Saguru's chair. "Those two have raised cheating into a competitive art form."

... Oh LOVELY. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised... Edogawa was far from normal for a child his age. The ability to deal off the bottom of a deck was no stranger than some of the other skills he'd shown.

Saguru shifted, watching in some fascination as the game began. Cards had never been his game of choice; in Britan, it was usually easier to get a possible source to open up over a game of billiards. Really, he only knew enough about Texas Hold 'Em to know it was a game that favored strategic players... and that the three he was watching now were very, very good at it.

"Cade-san?" Edogawa asked, looking up from his cards. "What happens if we catch YOU cheating?"

The psychiatrist's grin was slightly feral. "You won't."

That got snickers from the other two, and another round of betting went by. The coin of choice, Saguru noted, was small Meiji candies... Somebody had apparently come prepared.

"You said you were from Vegas," the boy detective began again. "Did you learn to play there?"

"Nah, I learned in college. I got GOOD at it playing with the head of the night shift at the crime lab. You think Kuroba's a poker shark, you should have seen this guy."

Saguru sighed, shifting in his chair. "While this trip down Memory Lane is fascinating, might I ask why Poker Night is at my house?"

"You've got more room than Kuroba or Edogawa, and Hattori's place is in Osaka," Cade said reasonably. "Be patient, Junior, we'll discuss business later."

"Business? What kind of business?"

Cade threw him a smile. "You're the detective, Junior. What do you four have in common?"

... Well. That they'd all ADMIT to? Kuroba had the skills of a fine detective, though he put them to work as the Kid... and ONLY as the Kid, so he'd never own up to that. He and Kuroba had both pissed off some crime syndicate... and Cade thought Edogawa was afraid of something... that might be it. And it might explain Hattori's bull-dog protectiveness over a boy who really didn't seem to need it... But in the end, none of those things were what he said.

"We're not normal," he said finally. "Three detectives and a magician, none of whom fit easily into society. Which, I suppose, is why we are what we are... And why Kuroba is such a raging Kid otaku. Kid is the patron saint of not fitting in."

"Gold star," Cade said easily. "That why you chase him?"

Hattori snorted. "Hey, I've run across the guy all of once, and that was 'cause he came to Osaka."

A shrug from Saguru. "Kid is... a challenge. Besides, I'd rather not see the idiot catch a bullet before I can arrest him." _Or before he finds what he's looking for,_ he thought, but carefully did not say.

"Hey, I just want an autograph," Kuroba replied, flashing that manic grin. "What about you, Conan-kun?"

The boy looked up from his cards, pinning Kuroba with that eerie blue gaze. "I chase Kid because he wants to be chased," he said quietly.

Kuroba blinked. "What do you mean?" he asked warily.

"The notes, the show, the police presence... he wants people there. He wants the attention. If he didn't... he could just disguise himself as somebody with access to a gem and walk in and out, nobody the wiser. Given the fakes he makes... nobody'd ever know that a theft had occurred, especially if he stuck to returning them once he was done with whatever he needed.

"I don't know why he wants the chase," Edogawa continued, eyes unfocused. "I think he loves the attention... he's a performer, first and foremost, he loves the spotlight. But I think there's also something he NEEDS the police for. Maybe whatever it is those snipers are after. And... he told me once that he set up the circumstances of one heist just so that we could duel. So I'm guessing he needs the challenge as much as any of us do."

Folding his cards, the small detective set them face-down on the table with a humorless chuckle. "... We're not that different, you know. Kid and I. When I started... my current situation... I realized that there were going to be times I'd have to break the law to get justice. That I'd have to lie... I'd have to do things I'm not proud of. But it's worth it. Because I still have one thing that separates me from the people I hunt... I still value human life. And that means that the only difference between me and Kid is the way we go about doing what we have to do."

Kuroba, Saguru noticed, looked as though someone had hit him over the head with a rather large trout. Carefully, the magician folded his own cards, still staring at Edogawa as though he'd seen a ghost.

"So... what would you do if you caught him?" he asked, tone deceptively neutral.

"I'd arrest him," the boy replied flatly. "And then I'd probably be stupid and leave the handcuff key somewhere he could get it. Sending Kid to jail would be writing his death sentence. They'd kill him in a heartbeat, if he couldn't disappear."

_They. _ Ice sleeted through Saguru's blood at the sheer despair and menace contained in that word. If the conspiracy he'd tripped over ran as high as he'd begun to suspect... yes, they'd have that power. But that the boy knew that, and could recognize the overwhelming, numbing terror of that concept...

"Yeah, I'm not used to his tricks, so he'd probably get away from me, too," Hattori replied casually. "Not that I spend that much time tryin' to catch thieves anyway."

Saguru sighed. "I doubt I'll ever catch him," he admitted, feeling the weight of four gazes on him. "We know each other too well by now to do anything more than play out the same dance. But if something happened, and his luck ran out enough that I caught him... yes, he'd probably escape me. He knows where I keep my handcuff keys, after all."

... Good lord, he wasn't entirely sure if Kuroba was still breathing.

"Good, that's settled," Cade said briskly, gathering up the cards. "Now... I mentioned business. I'm going back to the States tomorrow, Junior, which means I can't stand guard on your nosy butt any further. And leaving you here to catch a bullet is not in my game plan. So, I'm taking steps."

Saguru snorted. "I'm unsurprised."

"Quiet. Good news is, while you may have pissed off the Mob, most of the traditional methods of ending your lifespan are kind of out of the question. You don't drive, so cutting your brake line isn't gonna work. And anything flashy..."

"And as the son of a high-ranking police officer, my death will touch off an investigation even a phantom crime syndicate can't avoid," Saguru agreed.

Edogawa leaned forward, blue eyes narrowed. "So it has to look like an accident... or be something like a Kid heist, where everyone would just assume you got in the way of a bullet meant for him."

A nod from Cade. "Exactly. All of which is damn tough to do if somebody's watching your back."

"Oh no." Dread went through Saguru like lightning.

Hattori grinned. "I could probably start takin' an interest in Kid heists... not all of 'em, but a good half..."

"No."

"Don't look at me," Kuroba shook his head. "I'm a civilian. Nakamori wouldn't let me hang around, especially if there's been shooting."

Saguru snorted. "You'd be otherwise occupied anyway."

"I could do it. If somebody can talk Nakamori-keibu into letting me help, given my record with Kid..."

"No." Saguru infused that word with as much doom as he could muster. "You are seven years old, Edogawa-kun, I will not have you risking bullets for me."

Hattori and the boy traded glances, and Kuroba smirked. Suddenly, Saguru had the powerful conviction that he was missing something...

"And on that note," Cade commented, rising to his feet, "I'm gonna head back to my hotel. I got an early flight. Junior, you and Edogawa-kun both have my cel number... call any time, day or night. If you can't get me, or if it's a matter of life and death, call this number."

He placed a card on the table. "Ask for Danny- you'll get help inside twenty minutes. Careful, they only speak English over there."

Edogawa picked it up. "Danny?"

"Long story, and if you have to call that number, there'll be enough questions to answer then. Just trust me on that one. In the meantime... you boys have a good night. Oh yeah... and I turned on the white noise generator, just in case. Anybody bugged this place, they're gonna regret it."

The door shut behind him, and for a moment, the four boys regarded each other in silence. Finally, Edogawa took off his glasses, and sighed.

"Well, everybody else here knows this already, Hakuba-san, so... guess it's time we told you." He took a deep breath, then looked up, eyes boring into Saguru's own.

"Hello, I'm Kudo Shinichi. Nice to meet you."

Owari


End file.
